


Phil has A Thing for Clint’s hands

by AdamantSteve



Series: Minifics [5]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Hand Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 08:07:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdamantSteve/pseuds/AdamantSteve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the minific prompt from <a href="http://ralkana.tumblr.com/">Ralkana</a>: Phil has A Thing for Clint’s hands</p>
            </blockquote>





	Phil has A Thing for Clint’s hands

After a mission, Clint had a routine of sorts, which after getting with Coulson - and how did  _that_  even happen? - had changed. 

He didn’t mind it, really. Coming home to someone who’d give him space and not ask a million questions was actually pretty nice. Who knew?

But when he was done moping, which is kind of all it was -  _decompressing_ , Phil called it, but whatever. When he was done with that, he’d go to Phil and push into his space, as close as he could, and it was one of the few times Phil really would drop anything for him, closing his laptop and immediately - immediately! - focussing all his attention on Clint. He still didn’t talk though, and it took Clint a while to figure out that Phil was waiting for Clint to speak, and when he figured that out, he liked to stay quiet, since Phil made up for the silence in other ways.

Sometimes there was that whole feverish  _‘I gotta fuck you right this second!’_ kind of thing, which Clint undoubtedly enjoyed, but that was usually after they’d been on assignment together. Times like now, Phil would strip him down slowly and carefully, taking stock of anything that was different, any bruises or scrapes, and he’d kiss them gently and still not say anything, since they’d had enough arguments over Clint vs Medical that it was moot. He’d leave Clint’s hands til last, because they were always a little sore, even when he hadn’t been waiting out on a roof or punching his way through hordes of henchmen or scrabbling up a wall, and Phil seemed to want to take care of them the best of all.

Clint didn’t get it himself - they were just  _hands_ , with too-wide nails that Natasha used to frown at, a few scars, perpetual calluses - but Phil would take each one in turn, studying the back and then the palm before doing this thing he did, reiki or something, til Clint’s whole body felt like it was falling apart. And then once he was all floppy and warm - cause it made him so  _warm_  when Phil did these weirdly loving things that really made no sense at all - he’d kiss each finger one by one and then just hold them, hold his hands and look at them like they were special, precious things. And then he’d pull a blanket over them both and hold on to him as he drifted off into a perfect sleep.


End file.
